


Iron Spider: A Starker Anthology

by ebenflo



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Christmas, Confessions, Daddy Issues, Holidays, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not A Fix-It, Pampering, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Endgame, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Reunions, Starker, Tony Stark Dies, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, happy endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:25:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenflo/pseuds/ebenflo
Summary: Collection of Peter Parker x Tony Stark one-shots. Giving in to the sweet sin that is Starker.One story to a chapter, first chapter is an index of all stories.NO underage content. All characters depicted are of age of consent and older.





	1. Index

  1. **Reunion**  
_On Thursday, they bury an empty casket. On Saturday, Tony swears he's hallucinating._
  2. **Paris**  
_Tony whisks Peter away for his 21st birthday to the city of love. Peter is suitably impressed._
  3. **Christmas Eve**  
_It's Christmas Eve when Peter finally comes clean to Aunt May about his relationship with his 'mentor' Tony Stark._
  4. **Take Me Home Country Road**  
_Tony leaves because he foolishly thinks that's what's best for Peter. It's up to Peter to convince him otherwise._ **  
**
  5. **Not The Hero He Needs** __  
As the dust settles from the greatest battle our planet has ever known, the world mourns its saviour, Tony Stark. No one feels the grief greater than Peter Parker. But is Stark really gone?  

  6. **By My Side  
** _"...there may be days where you think you can’t get out of bed. When it feels like that building is back on top of you, and the water is too deep. And you may feel like you’re breaking apart. But those days will become less and less, and the spaces longer and longer between them." **  
**_




	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Thursday, they bury an empty casket. On Saturday, Tony swears he's hallucinating.

It's a Thursday when the world buries Peter Parker. With the memory of him squared away in that six foot timber box, he's not Spider-Man. He's not some hero, out to save them all. He's just Peter Parker, a kid from Queens with a big mouth. He's a bratty child with his impish grin. He is HOPE, personified. Tony Stark's personal sun and a symbol of everything good - of everything the world should be. Tony bites the inside of his cheek, avoiding the cold, teary glare from May Parker. She's four feet away and silent in her grief but she should have been in his face, yelling at him, screaming for Tony to make it right.

_your fault your fault your fault_

The voices in Tony's head haven't stopped for six days. Not since they crawled their way back to Earth from that dustbowl Titan. Nebula is gone - where, Tony doesn't know. Only knows the sound Gamora must have made when her body hit the chasm floor. Tony closes his eyes and sees them all before him. Broken limbs and faces turned to ash. Their ghosts surround him. All of them. He hasn't been alone, not since he had to man up and confront May Parker with the truth that her nephew was gone and yes he might have turned to dust anyway but it was Tony's fault he was on Titan, a galaxy away from home, and love and family.

So yeah, Tony could be forgiven for turning to the drink. Seven whiskeys in and he'll pay like hell for it in the morning - if he wakes up. Tony's not sure if his personal demons will drag him down but at this point he probably wouldn't be bothered if the morning never came. His suits stare at him accusingly but he can't find it in himself to get up, to move, to shower. The silence of the compound is thick. Cap is working on something big, Tony can tell. He's out for blood after the Snap but again, Tony can't will his limbs to get him over to Cap's room and join him in his planning.

Friday goes by and Tony's pretty sure he's starting to stink. A cloud of gloom settles around him.

Saturday rolls around like a slow moving blanket of fog. Tony isn't sure how many empty bottles there are. He hears them clatter in the kitchen, the tell-tale sound of glass on glass. An intruder? None of the alarms have gone off. Tony manages to pull himself to his feet. Rubs his aching chest and moves slowly towards the sound, even though he's in no shape or condition to fight off a hostile.

_NO_

Peter Parker stands before him. A ghost? A hallucination? Older and faced lined with ash and soot but whole and real. Tony feels a sob well up in his chest. He stumbles forward, grips the kitchen counter.

"Kid-"

"Mr. Stark?" Peter is definitely older but his eyes are still so damn young. Bambi eyes. He looks at Tony with wide-eyed trepidation. Then, he collapses.

*

It's an hour later. The return of Peter Parker was like a fire in Tony's soul, breaking through his intoxicated haze, leaping him to action. Parker feels weightless in his arms, boyish limbs now longer and more filled out but gangly still, like spider legs. His ribs like spokes through the torn rags of a white shirt. He's been to hell, Tony can tell that much. Peter all but confirms it when he wakes, groggy still and curling in to his side like a broken man.

"Twelve years," Peter murmurs, when Tony asks him how long it's been. And it's impossible because it's barely been a week on earth but the haunted look in Peter's eyes confirms the truth and the lines around his nose and temple say just as much. His hair is matted but Tony gently pets it, runs his fingers through the tangled curls. It's longer, brushing Peter's nape.

 _Where_ , Tony asks. The soul stone - sure. But...what has happened to Peter?

A full body shudder wracks the slender frame of the younger man and a sob hiccups its way out of his throat. Tony's hand stills on the back of Peter's neck - slides lower to curl protectively around his bicep and pull Peter in to his side. Lets Peter bury himself in Tony like a small child and weep until he's out of tears. Maybe it was hell. Maybe it was something worse. Peter can tell him in his own time. But he's here, he's back, and the devil himself can't take him away - Tony would like to see him try.


	3. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony whisks Peter away for his 21st birthday to the city of love. Peter is suitably impressed.

These days, they don't often get time alone, even though Tony is winding down things, as both Iron Man and Tony Stark. He's content to let the young ones do the running around. He never thought he would be happy with such a life, letting others take the steering wheel, but when he became an attached man, it suddenly meant compromise - it meant agreeing to things Peter suggested - and it meant looking after himself more. There are times when it still delights him to be the one doing the looking after. Take tonight, for example. Nothing is worth more to him in this moment than seeing the look on Peter's face when he spots the Eiffel Tower for the first time, all lit up at night.

"Tony..." 

Peter turns to him with a radiant smile, reaching back for Tony's hand, and Stark can't help the grin it brings to his own face. Peter is full of such life and joy, in stark contrast to his own cynicism - no pun intended. There is so much love in Tony's heart it reminds him he actually has one, contrary to what people had often thought of him. He lets himself be pulled along by Peter, catching up in step to his younger lover and wrapping his arms around Peter's mid section. He presses forward, nosing at Peter's hairline and pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss to the back of his neck. Its one of Peter's "spots". Tony knows this. Peter knows this. Peter knows that Tony knows. He squirms, initially giggling but then letting out a deep, sultry sigh.

"Tony...we're in public. People could be looking."

"Let them look," Tony rasps, taking in the scent of Peter's shampoo, his soft musky cologne, and beneath that a scent that is entirely Peter.

"We're not exactly anonymous, just because we're in FRANCE," Peter snarks, half-heartedly pushing Tony away even though the hooded look he gives Tony as he twists around in his arms is the very definition of _bedroom eyes._

"Did you ever know me to shy away from public attention?" Tony quirks an eyebrow at Peter and clasps his hands around Peter's back. "Hm? Or to shy away from my own desires?"

"And what is it you desire _Mr Stark?_ " Peter asks, his voice deceptively innocent, though Tony knows much, much better than that.

"You know exactly what I desire, _Mr Parker_ ," Tony growls, pulling Peter in by the loops of his jeans. He pecks little kisses down the column of Peter's throat.

"I think I'm getting an idea," Peter gasps, feeling the bulge of Stark's arousal pressing against his own.

"Hmmm just the one idea?" Tony rolls his pelvis, eliciting a tiny moan from Peter against his mouth. "Well let me take you back to our suite and give you _a few more."_


	4. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve when Peter finally comes clean to Aunt May about his relationship with his 'mentor' Tony Stark.

"Hey May..." Peter starts. A shy smile illuminates his face, still boyishly handsome despite them celebrating his twentieth-birthday a few months earlier. 

"I've been meaning to tell you this for a while but I guess things got really busy. I'm sorry I- we didn't make it out here."

May doesn't say anything, so Peter huffs out a nervous little cough and continues.

"I need to come clean. Miste- Tony and I. We've been seeing each other. I mean, I guess I've always tried to see as much of him as I could, even right from the start." Peter turns around to give Tony a helpless look. Tony sniffs and gives him a half nod, his lips quirking up in a flicker of a smile. Peter takes a deep if somewhat shaky breath and presses on with what he came here tonight to say. Somewhere in the distance he can hear carolers, their voices a low familiar grumble.

"Well...we're together, May. Tony and I. We're...we've been together for the last six months. And I'm so sorry I didn't come to your earlier. To get your permission or- well whatever that means. And please don't think Tony instigated any of this. It was my decision. Tony tried to turn me down gently. Tried to give me every chance he could to run, to turn back, to change my mind. But I kept on. I had to convince him I was in this for real. That he was worth it. That _we_ were worth it."

Behind him, Tony lets out a little snort.

"He's a good man, May. A damn good man. And I know he doesn't think that of himself, and sometimes even other people don't appreciate him, even though he's sacrificed so much already. I mean, you know what he's like." Peter smiles to himself.

May remains silent.

"But underneath all of that...that armour? I mean it's all just armour, right? Underneath the red metal suit there's a beautiful, generous, brave man. And I...I love him." Peter's heart rate doubles, maybe triples with the startling confession. The first time he's said it out loud to anyone except Tony himself. "I love him. Always have, always will.

"May, it's Christmas. The first snow fell yesterday...Tony let me bake for the rest of the team. I burned the cookies." There is a pang of nostalgia in Peter's heart as he remembers all the times May let him into the kitchen to help her cook. He remembers the echo of laughter, the patter of his feet on the cheap lino.

"Anyway...Tony is moving us upstate so I might not get the chance to come back for a while. But I want you to know I'm safe, and that I'm happy." Peter clears his throat, now suddenly feeling congested. He blinks away a few tears and runs his fingers over the engraved name on the headstone and pets one of the flowers on the Christmas wreath he just laid at the foot of May Parker's grave.

"I guess wherever you are I hope you're happy too."


	5. Take Me Home Country Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony leaves because he foolishly thinks that's what's best for Peter. It's up to Peter to convince him otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless, shameless fluff. And yes, *that* line is borrowed from Kingsman: Golden Circle, if that's what you're thinking.

It had taken Peter a long time to find the place. Not because he couldn't use the Spider-Man suit - although that wouldn't have been much good either, with no way to connect to Stark. No. The older man had gone completely off-grid. Three months, neither hide nor hair of the man. It was as though he had simply disappeared. If Peter hadn't known better, and if not for the small envelope with Peter's name scrawled on the front, they could easily have thought him dead or abducted. HQ had gone into disarray. The board of directors just as bad. Without Tony Stark, the world began a slow descent into darkness. Worst of all, Peter's own world, was left enshrouded in shadow.

Peter gripped the steering wheel with both hands. He glanced at the small slip of paper, unfolded and re-folded dozens - hundreds of times over.

**_It's better this way._ **

**_Know that you meant everything to me..._ ** **_I wouldn't be doing this if you didn't._ **

**_Tony_ **

Peter grit his teeth. He was young, not stupid. He was in love, not blind. Tony thought that the best thing he could do for Peter was leave him alone - but he thought wrong. Peter once told him that he was nothing without the suit. That was a lie. He was nothing without Tony Stark. Over the five years of their acquaintance Tony had become essential to Peter's very being. He had lost count of the times they sat through the night, tinkering away at little trinkets in the lab. He remembered with an ache the way Tony's fingers carded through his hair all the times the man sat vigil by his hospital bed. And now - why now? How could he even think the world would be a better place without Peter by his side, and he by Peter's?

"Fuck you Tony Stark," Peter muttered out loud.

Twilight was falling fast when Peter at last came upon the cabin in the woods, set high on a clearing in the Appalachians. Ringed by dense forest either side, firewood was stacked up outside and a curl of smoke was winding its way from the narrow chimney towards the candy coloured sky. It was beautiful, Peter realised, but oh so lonely. It made his chest hurt to think of Tony Stark out here all alone with only the song of the evening cicadas to keep him company. Peter hadn't seen another soul for the last two hours of his trip.

He slowed the car, not wanting to startle the cottage's occupant in his approach. It had taken him so much to get here. He needed to be careful in how he tackled this next part. Peter wasn't sure exactly how Tony would react. His mouth was bone dry as he parked the car. As he closed the door as quietly as he could, the door to the cabin swung open with a bang, and Peter turned to face-

"Peter-"

Tony's face lit up with surprise before it fells back to a stony, neutral baseline. A vein in his clenched jaw throbbed.

"Tony I-"

"What are you doing here?"

Peter's stomach lurches unpleasantly. It isn't exactly the welcome he had expected - but then, he's not sure what he was going to walk into anyway. He'd taken a big leap of faith coming here. 

"I- I drove." He waved uselessly at the car behind him, mentally berating himself at how foolish he must have seemed in that moment. 

Tony's eyes flicked over to it and then back at Peter. His expression was still carefully schooled and Peter saw he chose his words carefully.

"I can see that. How..." Tony shook his head. "Well, you drove a long way. The least I can do is offer you a drink."

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, again feeling embarrassed at how quickly and easily he was losing control. His fingers ached to reach out and grasp the edges of Tony's denim shirt, open over a faded Metallica tshirt. A different part of him entirely ached as he followed Tony into the cosy confines of the cottage, his eyes unashamedly drinking in the sight of the man before him. The cabin smelled like Tony. Senses dialled up, Peter could feel traces of Tony all around the confined space. The tang of expensive liquor. The homely smell of pine needles. The rumpled Sunday-morning cotton scent of day-old sheets on an unmade bed. Peter yearned to wrap himself up in all of these things. Yearned to beg Tony to take him apart. 

It took him a moment to realise Tony was talking to him.

"I was just asking what you would like to drink."

"Um...just a soda, if you have any."

"I have juice," Tony said warily, staying an uncomfortable distance away from Peter. Peter felt ill. The man was treating him like a leper.

"Juice will do me."

 _Please please please, tell me you love me still_ , Peter's heart begged, but he remained silent, only muttering a word of thanks when Tony handed him the cold glass of freshly pressed apple juice. Peter folded himself on to an old arm chair across from where Tony stood. He took a sip of the sweet juice before putting the glass down and leaping up to his feet again.

"Peter I-"

"Tony-"

They both started at the same time, before realising what they had done and both nervously chuckling. 

"I...you go first," Peter said.

"I'm no good for you," Tony said. He spread his hands out before him, like he was giving one of his presentations. "Peter you're young. You're so new, and vibrant, and alive. I have nothing to offer you and no good will come of me hanging around you. All I bring is death and destruction. I put you in danger more times than I can count."

"I chose that life," Peter choked out, feeling his insides spooled like coiled snakes. "I chose YOU Tony, that was my decision. I knew what I was getting myself into but I chose you then and I'd still choose you."

"You shouldn't," Tony rationalised, turning away and bracing his hand above the small fireplace. "I...Peter I don't know what you expected coming here tonight."

"Did I choose wrong?" Peter whispered. Hot tears spilled from his eyes and he didn't move to wipe them.

"I just...kid there's a world out there that needs you. It doesn't need me. You don't need me."

"You're Tony Stark!" Peter exclaimed. "The Avengers need you...the whole world needs you!"

Tony didn't reply, but he also didn't make a move to run away or to give rebuttal, so Peter took another chance.

"I need you."

Only then did Tony look up, staring at Peter as if he really seeing for the first time since Peter walked through the door of the cottage that evening.

"Kid-"

"Tony Stark I love you. I don't care what anyone thinks of that, or what laws there are, or how many bad guys they can throw at us...or even if the whole universe wants to fall apart all over again because I. Love. You. And that means everything. You said in your letter that I meant everything to you. But you can't just say stuff like that and not let me reply, Tony."

Peter could feel every one of his nerves lit on fire but he continued, stepping forwards towards Tony. Tony didn't move - another good sign.

"So this is my reply. Tony...Mister Stark...whatever you want me to be, I'll be. Whatever you can offer me I will take. However long we have together, it'll never be enough. Because I will always want you. I will always need you. You once asked me what I saw in that moment on Titan when I was fading. It was YOU. And it wasn't just because you were there, holding me. It was because you have always been there."

"I'm a broken man," Tony finally choked out meekly, running a hand over his lined and tired face. "Take away the suit, and there you have it. Me. A broken, twisted man, missing parts and not even whole."

Peter smiles radiantly, closing the last gap between them and taking Tony's hands away from his face and cradling it with his own.

"Then let me complete you," Peter whispers, pulling Tony at last - _at last_ \- into the first kiss of their forever.


	6. Not The Hero He Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the dust settles from the greatest battle our planet has ever known, the world mourns its saviour, Tony Stark. No one feels the grief greater than Peter Parker. But is Stark really gone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, sorry, another funeral fic. Turns out I just love killing these guys off, hey.

"Tony Stark was more than a hero. He was my mentor, my teacher...and I'm proud to say my friend. Even though he's gone, I feel him as if he's just stepped out into the next room. When I wake in the morning I expect him to walk in, calling my name. He- he used to call me Kid, a lot of the time. I used to hate that. I never realised how much I would miss it when he was gone."

Peter closes his eyes and affords himself a tiny smile, even through the shroud of grief threatening to envelop him. It radiates off the occupants of the grassy knoll like a wave of sorrow. Peter feels choked by it. It joins his own grief and amplifies it. His limbs ache as he stares at the small brass plaque before them, a solemn reminder of the great man whose name it now bears for all eternity. There was no body to bury. They simply couldn't find all the pieces.

For all his pomp and bravado, in the end, the memorial of Tony Stark is attended by only a handful of his nearest and dearest, just as he requested. It's set high on a hill, overlooking a beautiful valley. There are no marching bands, weeping fans, giant neon lit displays of all his accomplishments. Just a group of unique individuals, united through war, and now bound by the sanctity of friendship and fellowship. 

"I miss you," Peter's voice cracks and he hears a sob to his right; Natasha, wrapped in Bruce's arms. Peter feels much younger than his twenty-two years, standing here amongst the gravestones, surrounded by his family. "S-sleep well, Mister Stark."

*

Afterwards he accepts a long hug from Pepper, feeling like a young boy in her arms.

"You were his greatest joy, you know," Pepper offers softly, kissing Peter on the cheek. She smells powdery and soft, like Japanese plum blossoms floating on the breeze.

Peter wishes he could bury himself in her arms and weep, but he knows she's lost a lot too, so instead he gives her a brave nod.

"Tony was never much good when it came to showing affection, but you..."

Pepper looks a little lost and sad and Peter wishes he could give her something too.

"He loved you, Miss Potts," Peter whispers, a sob catching in his chest and refusing to rise.

"Oh, Peter. He loved you too."

*

Pepper watches the younger man wander slowly back towards the waiting cars at the bottom of the hill, escorted by Wanda and Rogers. She watches as he listens to something Rogers is saying, accepting the brotherly hand Steve claps on his shoulder. She lets out a deep sigh and rubs her arms, walking away slowly amongst the tombstones and mausoleums.

"He's in good hands, Pep," comes a soft gravelly voice from a patch of long grass to her right.

"Jesus-! Tony, what the hell, you scared me."

"Shhhhh. Quietly, Pep -- you promised, remember?"

Tony Stark stands whole and very much alive in front of her, a dark baseball cap slung low over his face. In place of an expensive three-piece suit he's wearing a soft black sweater and comfortable dark jeans. Pepper throws her arms around her oldest and dearest friend, clinging to him.

"Tony I don't know if I can do this. I can't - you can't make me carry this burden around with me, they'll figure it out sooner or later."

Tony shushes her protests, rubbing tight little circles on her back.

"No, they won't," Tony says softly but firmly. He kisses her on the forehead like in the old days, before nudging her nose with his. "You're my smart girl, you can do this."

"I just don't understand why it has to be this way...how can you let the world think you're dead? That _Iron Man_ is dead?"

"Trust me on this one Pepper. Please? The day will come when you will understand but you just have to trust me."

Pepper lets out a low groan.

"I do trust you Tony, I do. But...what about Peter?"

Tony's face darkens, just a flicker, but if anyone can read him like a book it's Pepper and she doesn't miss a beat of it.

"What about him?"

"Tony when I said I trust you, that's a two-way street. Okay, you have to trust me too. I'm not blind to your feelings about him."

"The friendly neighbourhood smart-ass?"

" _Tony."_ Pepper levels him with a withering look. "Is it not enough that you broke your own heart, you had to break his too?"

Tony sniffs, looking helplessly at his shoes, and the patch of grass next to them. Anywhere but Pepper.

"He's doing okay, right? He's stronger. I wanted him to be better than me, and he is. I just gave him a little nudge, that's all."

"By faking your _death_? Come on Tony, we both know you're better than that."

"And what was I supposed to do, huh?" Tony circles on Pepper, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. "Give him the truth? Let him know that for the past six years, I've been plagued by dreams that all end with him dying over and over in my arms, while I watch him turn to dust? Seriously Pep, was I supposed to tell him I love him, that I'd give him the world if that's what he wanted? Come on Pepper, you know the world we live in, you know what that world would have done. It would have turned on him the moment it could and torn him up in pieces. I saved him from that!"

"You saved your own ass because you weren't brave enough to love him!" Pepper retorted. "He looked to you like you hung the moon and you let that boy believe you were dead. What kind of man does that make you?"

Tony gives her a wry smile of defeat and suddenly looks a lot older and more frail than Pepper has ever realised.

"I'm King Midas, Pepper. Everything I touch is cursed. I loved you, and lost you. I loved - love, Peter, and he will never know. He can't know."

"You still have me, Tony. I'll always be by your side. You could - you could just walk down there, please Tony. Please just come back--"

But Tony is shaking his head slowly, pulling Pepper in gently by her shoulders.

"No, Pep. There's no coming back from this one. Okay? This time, this is for real sweetheart. And I need you to do something for me, all right? I need you to be strong. Help Peter, guide him. I know the team's got his back but I need you to look out for each other. I need to know you'll both be okay."

Pepper is sobbing now, seeing that Tony really means what he's saying.

"Where will you go?" she asks in a small voice, laying her head on Tony's chest for what could be the last time.

"Somewhere far enough to keep you all safe. But I'll be there, always. And if you're ever lonely Pepper, or sad you look up and you see that little gold and red star. That's me."

Evening falls around them. Insects come out, their evening song filling the air. Pepper begins the long, lonely walk back to her waiting ride. When she turns at the bottom of the hill and looks, Tony is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I broke my own heart, woops.


	7. By My Side

The first week is hell. Everything reminds you of him and most of the time you forget to breathe. You hold on to an old Stark Industries jumper that you stole from headquarters, burying your face in its soft pillowy interior and imagining it smells like his sweat and cologne and not just fabric softener and sun. Food goes untouched. Cards and letters unopened. You eat very little, drink even less, and the coffee you drink you take black because that’s what he liked and every scalding sip makes you feel just the tiniest bit alive. You tell yourself your hands are shaking because of the caffeine.

You still haven’t put the suit on. How could you?

Your aunt doesn’t know how to help, though she tries, oh how she tries. But you shy from her touch. You rant and rave like the child you pretend you aren’t and she damn well lets you. Lets you make angry accusations and say ugly, untrue things. She gives you space, and you want to laugh because it was always about space. How you wanted to go there. And when you finally did you found nothing but death (first yours and then his, but the difference is he’s never coming back).

Your friends can’t help, though they want to. You can’t take the pity in Ned’s face nor the open sorrow in Michelle’s. They don’t know, how can they know? But you don’t say it, and they don’t ask. They don’t ask about him. A dead man in a tin suit who gave you the world and then gave himself _for_ the world.

Days move on, a steady relentless march, and the world starts coming back to life around you. The others, they trickle in and out; sometimes they even dare to touch you. Like Natasha, who cradles you as you sob. And Bruce, who brings you more coffee and an editorial page that declares Tony a hero.

Hero. Mentor. Father. Friend.

You don't use the L word. You can’t say any more because you were a child to him then and it burns you. You're a man now,but he'll never see that with his own eyes.

You remind yourself how to breathe. Every scrape of air through your lungs is miserable, painful and you wished you didn’t have to. There are days when you try to drown yourself in the bath, when they finally manage to convince you to bathe, but the survival instinct is too strong and you pull yourself up from beneath the cooling water, gasping and choking. You beg death to take you too but she’s a cruel mistress, smiling gently upon you and saying, _not today_. You cough and sometimes it feels like the sands of Titan still course through your bronchioles.

Then one day, one not so significant, overcast day, you decide to put on the suit, the one he first made you. You’re not sure why you even pick it up in the first place, but something beckons from behind the blue and red material. you slip into its silky caress, feeling it tighten and mould to your limbs.

Karen is gone. And in her place, a voice so familiar you cry out, hands grasping at open air for the ghost of a memory.

“Hey kid.” His voice is soft and sure, wrapping around you like an invisible caress.

“Mister Stark…?” You blink rapidly, eyes fogging inside your mask.

“If you’re hearing this then…I guess I didn’t make it. I’m gone. And I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Peter. I hope I made it worthwhile.”

You sob, clutching your sides, and Tony’s voice tsks gently.

“Peter… this interface…I made sure that whatever was left of me, all my thoughts, my memories, my dreams. Everything I was…I leave to you. My legacy. Peter, _you are my legacy_.”

“I-I miss you.”

He chuckles gently and you wish you could see those eyes, the edges crinkling like wrapping paper on Christmas morning.

“I miss you too, kid. wherever I am, wherever I ended up, know that I'm wishing with every fibre of my being that I could be back here with you. But I can’t. These are the cards we got dealt and now it’s up to you to finish the hand.”

“I can’t do this.” Hysteria bubbles up inside you.

“You can. Peter, sweetheart, look out there.”

You do. You see a city, teeming with life, that you had shied away from, hidden from.

“Peter, those people out there? They need you.”

“I need you,” you insist, frantic.

Tony makes a soft humming noise.

“Hmmm. You may. And there may be days where you think you can’t get out of bed. When it feels like that building is back on top of you, and the water is too deep. And you may feel like you’re breaking apart. But those days will become less and less, and the spaces longer and longer between them. And there’ll come a day, maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, or next week. But a day when you look back at our time together and I don’t see tears there, but a smile. I hope you smile for me Peter.”

He goes quiet, and you think he’s left, but you hear soft, measured breathing in your ear. And you don’t think to question why a computer interface, even one as smart as Mister Stark’s, should be breathing.

And you hiccup with the next sob but your heaving lessens. The pain in your heart is still present, but the raging dulls.

You look out at the world, tips of buildings gilded by the light of the setting sun, and you realise there’s a feeling of something bright and sharp that flickers at the corners of your blackened heart and you realise it for what is is. That you won’t waste the precious gift of life Tony gave you. You can’t.

Because with his dying breath he bought your future.

He bought hope.


End file.
